


Colour

by FearTheSpork



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Am I late?, F/M, The greatest romance here is between me and writers block, What did i miss?, stumbles in six months late with an armful of Deckerstar fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearTheSpork/pseuds/FearTheSpork
Summary: Lucifer and Chloe park up at the beach on a sunny day and promptly get lost in the music.





	Colour

**Author's Note:**

> I crawled my way back from the literary graveyard because someone challenged/goaded me to write a fic with no dialogue. Apparently I 'rely too heavily' on it. Also, the show is royally pissing me off at the minute and I needed something to fix that because I don't like feeling feelings. Enjoy!

It’s a sun soaked midday and for a rare change, Los Angeles’s best Detectives are without a case to solve. Trixie is at school until three and then with her dad that night, so responsibilities can take a back seat for the day.

 

Lucifer has parked up at the beach next to the Santa Monica Pier and he and Chloe are looking like the embodiment of a suave summer couple.

 

Passersby ogle the quite frankly stunning pair as they sip on smoothies and chat. Lucifer has forgone his usual style in favour of a far more casual look. Jeans that hug him in __the__ most inappropriate way and do things to Chloe’s insides when she lets her eyes wander too far- and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

 

The only other thing he’s wearing is a pair of stylish, sleek looking sunglasses that Dan had thrown envious looks at when Lucifer picked her up earlier that day.

 

Chloe isn’t without her own version of style though. Tired of pantsuits and conservative clothes, she’s opted for a white sundress and strappy white shoes. Her hair is down around her shoulders- a testament to just how free she’s feeling today. Her own sunglasses are perched on top of her head. She is well aware of the looks Lucifer is throwing her way and she’s pleased that her outfit choice is so appealing to him.

 

Growing bored of the view- happy families and far too many children for his liking- Lucifer suggests they play their usual game. The Music Trivia Extravaganza is something they invented on a particularly dull stakeout three months before and it’s one of the only games they’ve played that’s stuck around. Chloe attributes it to the fact that Lucifer simply can’t wrap his head around the fact that she knows more about music than him.

 

It irks, fascinates and arouses him all at once.

 

So they play it at least once a week. Chloe hasn’t lost a game yet but she has a sneaking suspicion that Lucifer has been brushing up on his modern music of late because he almost had her last week with some excellent guesses he’d never have known otherwise. She agrees, in spite of the openness of their surroundings. She’s never been one to be particularly shy and Lucifer would be aghast at the idea of _not_ having an audience when he sings.

 

Chloe starts as is tradition.

 

She starts him off easy with something she knows he’ll get. She goes for Rather Go Blind by Etta James and a few people turn their heads towards her as they pass. Chloe doesn’t let it deter her because Lucifer is watching as well with dark eyes and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He lets her sing just a little too long before telling her the answer.

 

He, of course, knew it straight away but Chloe Decker has a _voice_ on her and he’s more than guilty of wanting to hear as much of it as possible.

 

He goes next with Golden Years by David Bowie, drumming out a lazy beat with his fingers on the steering wheel and putting on a show for the people around them. He’s far more accepting of the eyes of the public- something Chloe has been burned by before. But she sees the way they all look at him. Like they want to fuck him and marry him all at the same time. Men and women who pulse with desire when his voice hits their ears and she gets it- she really does.

 

It does the same thing to her. But it doesn’t mean she _likes_ it and the faint webs of jealousy that tug on her mind makes her answer faster than she wants to. Lucifer however is thrilled that she knows her Bowie and with all of his attention on her, the jealousy slinks back into the back of her mind where it belongs.

 

They’re one for one- but then again, neither of them have ever lost in the first round and Chloe begins the second with Mercy by Duffy. 2008 is not a year that Lucifer should be familiar with and she thinks that she’s gotten him.

 

But he plucks the answer out of the blue and the pull of his bottom lip between his teeth when he says it tells her that he has some of the luckiest guesses on the planet. But she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed because that means the game gets to go on and she gets to hear more of him. Of his voice.

 

Maybe she shouldn’t revel so much in the sinful tones that a fallen angel directs at her- his eyes filled with lust and thoughts of doing only God knows what to her in his bed. But it gets her hot and fallen angel or not he’s the closest she’ll ever come to touching the sun. She flushes with heat when he picks Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon for his next song and she wonders sometimes if he can read minds or if he’s just intuitive enough to read her like a book.

 

She hums along appreciatively for a moment because his voice is made for this song and his fingers brush hers on the arm rest between them- slightly wet from holding his cup- and in a moment of bravery she tilts her palm down and slides it under his own. They’re holding hands by the time she guesses correctly and Lucifer is looking out at the ocean again. His eyes are hidden by the sunglasses but his smile is blinding and she can’t even try to stop her own spreading across her face.

 

There’s heat between them, yes. It’s there all the time and it lingers in touches and stares across the room. Ever since the truth was laid bare between them it’s been almost easy to fall for him. To let herself care again knowing there was a reason behind all the hurt that came before.

 

But there’s a sudden sweetness about him too. Something earnest and soft that she catches glimpses of sometimes. Like now, when his thumb brushes the inside of her wrist like he’s touching something precious.

 

In the distance the sun splits off of the waves and sparkles, partially blinding and partially beautiful- just like him she thinks with warmth. Across from her, Lucifer is deep in his own thoughts, the game momentarily forgotten in the wake of that soft, feminine palm pressed against his own. Those slender fingers that can expertly fire a weapon and then go home to stroke through her child’s hair are tangled with his.

 

His hands.

 

They’ve touched heaven and hell and all in between. Countless men and women, fine clothes and even finer jewellery. His hands have made the stars in the sky and lit the darkness and yet he finds that he simply cannot pinpoint a moment in his expansive existence when he’s felt anything as sweet as her hand in his.

 

If only she could grasp the knowledge of what exactly she did to him he thinks and Chloe must feel the shift in the air because she swallows and squeezes her fingers around his. She prods him gently to start the next round because it is his turn after all and Lucifer is happy to comply. Thinking too much about just how much and __how deeply__ he feels for her will only serve to frighten them both from whatever this tentative thing is.

 

It’s fragile and easily broken but they’ll be damned if they’ll let it go now.

 

So he flashes an easy smile at her and she relaxes back against her seat, the sun heating her skin just enough to counter the breeze coming from the ocean. The world starts around them again and Lucifer plucks a song from memory to sing for her. It’s light and cheesy and brightens the heavy mood from before because Perfect by One Direction is a song she’d never expect him to know in a million years- let alone sing so passionately.

 

She lets him get to the chorus because it describes him.

 

Describes them both now because after all, he was the original rebel. The original bad boy. He was a terrible influence on her in the best way. She did things now she never would have dreamed of doing in the past. She broke the rules more. She rolled the windows all the way down as they sped on wide, dusty country roads and blared the radio a little too loudly. They would sneak onto private property to star gaze and hold all night sit in’s at Lux with just them, the bar and their friends.

 

Before him, life had just been life. The only splash of colour that ever stood out was Trixie. Everything else was grey. Especially work. A place that she was supposed to love but was instead ostracised from.

 

Then Lucifer was there. He was leaning on her desk or playing with her handcuffs or causing trouble with suspects and making jokes that were entirely inappropriate for any given situation. He was taking selfies with bodies and suspects and __her__ and making her laugh with awful impersonations of the people that loathed her _ _.__  

 

Lucifer was colourful.

 

Lucifer was the pink and the orange and the deep purple in the dusk as they sat cross legged on the hood of her cruiser and he recalled how he designed the night sky. He was the bright white of his wing stretched out underneath her and the green in the grass. He was the red in the lingerie she bought the week before all the while convincing herself that it was __not__  for anyone but her.

 

She guesses correctly and he beams with pride at her- not in the least bit fazed that she’s winning again because Lucifer takes pride in everything she does.

 

Chloe is quiet for a few moments as she flits between different songs. Not only to catch him out but to… convey just a little bit of how she’s feeling about him at the moment. She settles on Beneath Your Beautiful by Labrinth and she knows it strikes a chord with him. She’s seen his wings and she’s seen his face. His real face. It had cut like a knife through all her emotional turmoil and left her numb- hollow inside for a good few months.

 

She’d put on a brave face for him though. He would never know just how torn up she was seeing him so… destroyed, for lack of a better word. Devil or not, this was still Lucifer. He was still her partner and still her best and for a good long stretch of time, __only__ friend. The one constantly at her back with his whole person bared just to protect her.

 

He had saved her life, not once or twice, but three times in turn for his own. Six bullets, then one and then a defibrillator to the chest.

 

Then to see that all of this time he’d been hurting. That he’d been burned so savagely in the fires of Hell that it had stripped him down to the muscle. He’d been so scared to show her what he called his ‘Devil’ face because he’d thought that she would run in fear. She doubted very much that he ever imagined a scenario where it would cripple her out of sheer, unadulterated grief for him.

 

While she sings, Lucifer uses the time to bring her hand to his lips. He presses the chastest of kisses there before pressing the back of her hand against his cheek and all but leaning in to her touch. Chloe is more than happy to oblige him this moment. His skin is warm and his stubble rubs softly, tickling her when he nuzzles her briefly.

 

Then he places their joined hands where they were on the arm rest and tells her the name and the singer of the song correctly. Chloe knows the game is almost over now and she can feel something building in the air between them. She doesn’t know what it is yet but it doesn’t feel ominous. It’s just there, like a third person who is eager to hear the next song.

 

He begins to tap out a quick, unfamiliar rhythm with his free hand and slides deftly into the first words. Her breath catches.

 

_She doesn’t know it_ ; and it’s all the more beautiful for it.

 

So she lets him continue. People are stopping close by because he’s simply radiant. Every word feels like it’s just made for her. For him. For __them.__ His eyes are closed and his quick fingers are pummelling the beat just loud enough to compliment the tune of the song. He’s deeply into it and the climax approaches far faster than she wants it to.

 

Lucifer belts it out, meaning every single word he sings. She doubts he’s even playing the game any more but even so, she knows that’s she has finally lost. When she glances away towards the smattering of people that gather where ever he goes and then back again- he’s looking at her and singing with every inch of his old, battered soul.

 

She swallows the lump in the throat as the song ends. The light applause of their impromptu audience is drowned out by the sheer devotion in his eyes and Chloe will never admit to the speed that she leans across the gap between them and presses her lips to his.

 

He tastes of the summer berry smoothie he’d been drinking and salt from the ocean breeze and she guesses that she must taste much the same.

 

With a nudge on her part, she deepens the kiss and her hands come up to cup his face like she never wants to let him go. A part of her doesn’t. This is it for her now. His moan is breathless and almost needy and she smiles against his mouth- breaking the kiss with something akin to a giggle. It wasn’t like her dream, all those months ago. It was so much better.

 

Lucifer is breathing a little heavier and his eyes bore into hers with such an intensity that her whole body involuntarily shivers. She doubts, deep down, that he’s ever been kissed so sweetly. That he’s ever had someone take the lead knowing what she knew about him. There’s awe and joy in his expression and he leans closer.

 

She thinks he’s going to kiss her again but instead his nose meets hers and he tilts his head a little until their foreheads are resting against each other. The last time she was this close to him was that awful moment after she’d thought she’d lost him. When he strolled out of the Professor’s lab without so much as a hint of poisoning and the gut-wrenching fear had been replaced by relief.

 

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and his palm covers her whole cheek, his thumb sweeping a wide line against her cheekbone.

 

She asks him softly what the song was and he chuckles with a sincerity that she hasn’t heard from him in a long time.

 

He tells her that it was I Will Wait For You by Mumford & Sons.

 

So she finally lost the game. But Chloe Decker wasn’t a sore loser. This was one battle she was glad to let go for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Back to the graveyard I go!


End file.
